


An Unlikely Favor

by Cupcakemolotov



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: A Clashing of Posessiveness, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Caroline as a Dragon, Dragon Caroline Forbes, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson, Minor Character Death, There be UST, They both want each other, UST, hybrid!Klaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25023967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakemolotov/pseuds/Cupcakemolotov
Summary: Caroline Forbes has known Klaus Mikaelson longer than some countries had existed, had wanted him nearly as long. But Klaus was not a monster easily hoarded. Yet with the breaking of his curse, perhaps circumstances had finally changed.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 47
Kudos: 431





	An Unlikely Favor

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this is not Dragon Dust, but my muse wanted dragons, but Klaus was being tricky. So I guess it is Caroline's turn. :)

Caroline set aside her empty glass, the lingering taste of cheap champagne bitter against her tongue. The lead for the painting she wanted was a bust, and irritation clawed sharply at her insides. The artist was no famous painter, but something about the colors and lines had caught her attention when she had seen it all those years ago and she _wanted_ it. It had been an unfortunate turn of events that the family who owned the painting, descendants of the creator, had been so unwilling to sell no matter what she offered them.

Human sentiment could be so frustrating.

At the time she had walked away, because collecting through force was only fun when it was her enemies' heads, and humans did not live forever. She’d had the time. So she’d left behind a few feelers, and made sure she arrived mere weeks after the deaths of those who had owned the painting. But upon arrival, she learned that their entire collection was gone. To her great annoyance, three decades later and she was still no closer to finding where the painting had disappeared to. Once, it had very nearly been in her grasp, but her attention had been needed elsewhere and so she had walked away.

Tonight was turning out to be another long evening of disappointment. Turning sharply on one spiked heel, she headed for the door. Time was on her side, and thirty years was not her longest hunt, but for once her patience was in shambles. She’d come to the city specifically to search for her lost painting and had instead found a hotbed of witches. Usually, that was not a matter of too much concern, as she had learned to hide what she was… and certain spells had been gifted to her over the years to make that easier. But this coven had known who and what she was, and the relaxing week she had planned had turned into something a bit more bloody.

Now she was leaving empty handed and annoyed. Shopping would do her no good, collecting pretty baubles only soothed the rough edges when they were the pretty baubles that she _wanted_. Maybe it was time to return to one of her more secluded homes and stretch her wings. It had been a few years since she’d allowed herself the indulgence, and her beast was starting to grow restless and bored. Perhaps some time meandering through her collections and flying would help burn the worst of her temper off.

“Hello, love. You look ravishing.”

The sharply accented words were unexpected, and Caroline twisted around to blink at the man standing near her, surprise cutting through the annoyance that for the first time in centuries, he’d managed to sneak up on her. The curling smile on his face as he realized it did _not_ improve her mood. But this particular monster had never bothered with reverence or fear, and charm clung to all the sharp edges of him as he smiled at her.

Tonight, he was dressed in a perfect tux, overdressed for the small gallery and unbothered by it, the leather cords she found endlessly fascinating missing but the dimples and lips she sometimes thought about too long on full display. He stepped closer, the edges of his smile deepening at her continued annoyance.

“Klaus.” She offered him her hand after a dozen heartbeats, giving herself a moment to absorb the impact of him even as a lifetime of greetings nudged at her. As much as she’d learned to love modern familiarity, with Klaus and in public, she’d never been comfortable expressing it. Unchanging he might be, she’d never managed the immunity to him necessary to ignore the way her beast shifted beneath her skin in his presence. Formality was a shield against public eyes. “I didn’t realize you were back in this part of the world.”

“A bit of business, I’m afraid.” He said, brushing a lingering kiss along her knuckles. “Nothing nearly so entertaining as the last time we ran into each other.”

Caroline frowned at his words, the slightly apologetic note, but decided it could be dealt with in a moment. This close and there were other changes that were suddenly apparent and far more important. Ignoring the decorum that had colored so much of their long, long lives she stepped closer and brushed her fingertips along the edge of his jaw, studying the shape of his eyes. Klaus allowed the familiarity, seemed to welcome it, and she breathed deep.

His scent was different.

Finally certain, she allowed herself to smile, her annoyance and irritation pushed aside for happiness for her friend now that she knew he had _not_ learned a new trick. For this, she did not have to fake her delight. “You broke your curse.”

The flash of satisfaction, the smug tilt of his head was achingly familiar. “I did.”

“That’s _wonderful_ ,” she told him, letting her hand reluctantly fall away, fingertips tingling. “How long?”

“Less than a year,” Klaus assured her. “Even if business had not brought me here, I would have found you soon.”

“Good,” Caroline murmured “You remembered your promise.”

His look was chiding, starkly serious beneath the charm. “I have not forgotten a single word that has passed between us, Caroline.”

Lips finally curling at the hint of darkness in his voice, she tipped her head. “But if you are not here about your curse, I do wonder what business could possibly bring you to this particular gallery.” She deliberately let her gaze scan the quaint gallery, the mostly casually dressed patrons. “This isn’t quite your scene anymore.”

Klaus chuckled and moved to tuck her arm through his. “As it were, I _have_ been looking for you, just not only for all the reasons I would have liked.”

She paused, fingers resting lightly on his forearm. Rarely did she go longer than two decades without Klaus making an appearance in her life, but this stretch of time had been nearly forty years. Such a small number of years in their lives, but an endless amount of time in terms of humans and their technology, and she had started to grow curious that he had not reached out to her. That he would make a deliberate choice to tell her that this visit was different was both a curiosity and a warning. “And why were you looking for me, Klaus?”

His hand settled over hers, fingers and palms far warmer then she remembered them ever being before. In her heels they were nearly the same height and he met her eyes steadily. “Would you let me buy you a drink? Perhaps dinner?”

Caroline weighed his offer against the disaster of her week and her eyes narrowed. “Do tell me that you are _not_ here with those witches.”

“I am not,” a flicker of something dangerous, a hint of new and unusual yellow and the hard edge of the vampire she’d known for centuries behind his eyes. “But perhaps I will acquaint myself before I leave.”

“There shouldn’t be much left to find,” she dismissed. “I am perfectly capable of killing a few witches, Klaus.”

A laugh, low in his throat. “So I have seen. And perhaps you are correct, but there is always one or two, stashed away who believe themselves safe. I do so enjoy ruining their illusions.”

She huffed and relaxed against him as he led them towards the door. “For you, _perhaps_ , hunting such a thing is enjoyable.”

“Come now, Caroline. You cannot expect me to believe after all these centuries that you do not enjoy a challenge.”

“There are challenges, Klaus, and then there are _challenges_. Hunting witch covens is an annoyance, I assure you.” She wrinkled her nose. “And these witches are not particularly imaginative.”

“And yet,” he murmured, the set of his mouth unforgiving.

Caroline considered that as they bypassed the humans still mingling, the startled glances thrown their way as they took in the finery. She knew his thoroughness would partly stem from a promise given so long ago, but Klaus had never left her with the impression that their past was a burden he wished to be rid of. In fact, if anything, he always sought for more of her, for more of her time. It fascinated as much as it left her wary, this man who knew more of what she was than any other living creature.

And whatever business had Klaus seeking her out would likely be messy, but hadn’t she just been contemplating how bored she was? Things rarely stayed dull near her favorite vampire, now hybrid she supposed, and more importantly, he had earned the right to ask that she at least hear him out. It was a favor she granted very few, but for Klaus… In all the centuries and decades that they had known each other, he had only ever asked her for one favor. She had been unable to help him, though she had done what she could to mitigate that failure.

That he would come to her again, the ghosts of his creation seemingly laid to rest?

“You may take me back to wherever you are staying,” she said decidedly as they approached the doors. “Hopefully you have better booze.”

His head tipped towards her, brows winging upwards. “As if I’d offer you something subpar, love.”

She laughed at the offended note in his voice, the glint behind his eyes. “No? I remember spending many a night drinking with you what could most definitely be described as subpar. Chicago was just a few decades ago, as I recall, and the booze there was _terrible_.”

His mouth curled upwards on one side, amused indulgence heavy in his voice. “I assure you, I have not forgotten your preferences.”

“I should hope not,” she drawled before squeezing his arm. “I will listen to your request, but I have one of my own.”

“Do you?”

His eyes glittered at her, something hot and unreadable in those yellow edges of his pupils. She pressed against his side again, and deliberately let her gaze linger on the lines of his face. “I do. You will keep the rest of your promise, and tell me the details of how you finally broke your curse. I want to know everything.”

* * *

Caroline had met Klaus Mikaelson when she was three decades old, hardly more than a hatchling. She’d been in a cage at the time, too young and lacking the power the witches had wanted from her. Instead, the coven had banded together with the local village and hunted her mother. She’d listened for days as they had tortured her mom, harvesting both hair and scales and blood for their spells. And then one day, she’d woken and found that she was no longer alone.

They’d stared at each other, monster to monster, and Caroline had shifted to her knees and leaned closer to the bars to study him. His cage was so close to hers that she could reach out and touch him if he leaned but a little forward. She thought the witches expected her to be afraid of him, of the danger she could sense, but instead she was fascinated. She’d never seen his like before, the way magic clung to the skin and bone of him like old blood. “What are you?”

His head had tipped, blue eyes intent as he had stared at her with the same intensity and a hint of fascination. “I could ask you the same question, love.”

She wrinkled her nose. “No pet names.”

His lips had curved then. “No? Then what should I call you?”

“Caroline,” she’d finally murmured. “My name is Caroline.”

“I am Klaus.” His eyes lifted to the ceiling, something tightening along his jaw. “Tell me, Caroline. Are you how they have managed to hold me?”

Something hard and tight knotted in her chest, and she shook her head. The anger in his voice didn’t scare her. She thought that if this monster killed her it would be quick, clean. Not the terrible existence of chains and magic that awaited her once they finished harvesting her mother if she didn’t starve herself first. She could not offer the witches what they wanted - but time would change that.

“No, that is my mother.” Her fingers curled tightly into her palms, sorrow an aching wound in her voice. “What is left of her.”

Those dark eyes returned to her face and the hard line of his mouth softened a fraction. “My condolences.”

Her laugh was harsh. “Thank you, I suppose. Tell me, why are they holding you?”

“My father wants to kill me,” the words were blunt and angry, an old bitterness hard in his eyes. “They have made a deal with him.”

Caroline considered that, weighed the bits and pieces of conversation she had overheard over the past few weeks. She wasn’t sure she could trust him, there was too much rage and too much violence in him, but there was something to be said of the enemy of your enemy. Her mother was dead and Caroline would rather face a quick death than something long and lingering. It was likely the witches would tell him what she was anyway, they did so love to gloat.

Leaning against the bars, she rolled her lip between her teeth. “And what are you, Klaus, that they need a dragon’s death to contain you?”

He went motionless across from her, heart and lungs and muscle going still in a way no human or witch or werewolf could hope to mimic. “A dragon.”

She bared her teeth at him, letting the truth of her show in her eye. The world went bright and vibrant, and for a moment he was so pretty her lungs ached with it. But she tucked away her own personal greed and power, refusing to let it color the darkness of her cell. “I am too young to give them what they want, though I imagine they see that only as a minor complication. Another decade or so will change the potency of my magic and they are foolish enough to believe they can keep me that long.”

His gaze skimmed the room, jaw tightening. “Keep you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a witch has tried it.” Her fingers curled around the iron bars she did not yet have the strength to bend. “And you?” His eyes bled red, veins crawling beneath his eyes. When he smiled, his canines were razor sharp and pointed, and Caroline unexpectedly laughed, delighted. “Oh, you’re a _vampire_. I thought those weren’t real.”

Amusement curved his lips, a monster’s indulgence. “That is not the usual reaction to my presence. You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Dragons live for a long time,” she said with a shrug, settling into a more comfortable position as she watched him. “If we are allowed to, I suppose. Your kind started showing up, what, two or three decades ago? Mother thought you were some strange anomaly that some necromancy had unleashed. I thought you were just a nightmare used to keep the baby witches in line, but this might be better.”

The monster receded back behind the deceivingly pretty lines of his face. His head tipped, brow arching. “Better?”

“Would you like to make a deal?”

His eyes turned calculating, head tipping to the side. “What kind of deal, love?”

She narrowed her eyes in warning, but that just seemed to amuse him. “I want the witches dead and you want out of that cage.”

A dimple creased Klaus’ cheek. “Ah, but in the fairness of honesty, I must admit I too want the witches dead.”

Caroline shook her head. “I don’t just want the witches upstairs dead, Klaus. I want the entire line destroyed, down to the last drop of witch blood. I want their memory wiped from existence so that in a single generation, no one remembers them and their knowledge of dragons and their grimoires to be gone from the world as if they never existed. I want them erased.”

“Well now,” Klaus murmured, something approving behind his eyes. “That is something else entirely.”

She nodded in agreement.

“I should warn you, there are a number of individuals who would tell you that making a deal with me is folly.” His lips tipped upwards even as his eyes remained serious. “I am a monster, after all.”

“I am also a monster,” she pointed out. “One whose species has had a much longer time to indulge in any number of horrors than yours. There's a reason the witches wish to contain my magic, and it is not just so they can bleed it for their own purposes. And I think you will find that making a bargain with me is no simple thing. We will both keep to the terms, regardless of what they may be.”

Klaus leaned forward. “I want a promise that you will not betray me.”

Caroline snorted. “I am young, vampire, not stupid. Betrayal can come in many forms, some unknowing. Find a different deal.”

His head tipped and the truth of him was stark behind his eyes. “Why should I? There is a chance that I can break what the witches have done before my father arrives without your help, and then I will take my vengeance regardless.”

Annoyance churned in her stomach even as she grudgingly respected the mind behind his pretty face. This one was far more clever than he wanted those around him to believe. “My mother’s death is not so easy to subjugate.”

“No? Then how do you plan to do so?”

Her smile held no amusement. “Blood. My blood, specifically.”

Klaus paused as he seemed to consider that. “Your blood.”

Caroline leaned forward, so that her cheek pressed against the iron of the bars that held her captive. “My blood. Like calls to like, and I am born of my mother. Her magic cannot work against me, and as long as you have my blood in your veins, it cannot work against you either. And do not think you can take such a gift, Klaus. What you need from my magic can only be given, not taken.”

“Tell me, is that why they need you older?” He questioned carefully, a thousand calculations churning behind his eyes. “That what they bleed from you is not strong enough only because it is unwillingly given?”

“You know something of witches,” she said slowly. “And of magic.”

“My mother was a witch,” he said. “She was not untalented.”

“Strange that you are witch-born.” Caroline murmured, gaze scanning him carefully. “You do not feel it.”

A curious expression flickered across his face. “Many things are strange in this world of monsters, do you not think?”

“Perhaps,” she allowed. There was something about his words, the angle of his jaw, that told her she would get no more answers about his past tonight. “But that does not bring us any closer to agreeing on terms.”

Klaus made a soft noise, his gaze piercing as he visibly mulled over her words. She left him to his thoughts, though the waiting annoyed her. They did not have all the time in the world for this, whatever ceremony the witches were performing with her mother’s remains would likely end soon and bring nothing good with it. But as her mother had repeated, time and time again, some things could not be rushed no matter how she wished it.

“I want a boon.”

Caroline blinked at him. “What?”

A hint of a smile, the faintest crease of a dimple in one cheek. “A favor. You will owe me one of my choosing.”

She considered that, mulled on all the potential angles. “A favor.”

“That is my price to destroy the witch line.”

There were so many things that could wrong with a boon, and it would tie them tougher in a way she wasn’t sure he understood. Still. “Within _reason_. I will not kill innocents for you, Klaus, and I will not be used for dark magic. And it must be something only I can give you.”

His laugh was soft, but his gaze glittered. “I accept.”

She nodded once and shifted a little closer to the bars, sliding her arm through the slots. “Then we are in accord. Once you are finished taking my blood, it would be best if you dealt with the witches upstairs immediately. I am not certain what they are attempting to accomplish with my mother’s blood but nothing good has ever come from witches stealing from my kind.”

Klaus caught her hand, feathered his thumb across the pulsing veins in her wrist. “And you, sweetheart? What will you be doing?

Caroline grimaced at the pet name, and her upcoming change. “I don't trust you.”

Instead of offending him, her words just seemed to amuse him. “Smart of you.”

She shook her head, fingers curling into a fist in her lap. There was no point in trying to avoid admitting this when her own magic would force the issue. “You are not the only one who the witches are suppressing, but they are using a different magic against me. I am too young to shake it off, but once they are dead, I will. And I have been under too much stress.” Her voice turned sardonic. “I’m not sure letting you bite me will help the situation.”

Understanding dawned behind his eyes. “You will change.”

“I will change,” she agreed softly. “You’ll probably be fine, with my blood in your veins, but I’m not sure you should test it. Kill the witches, and leave. I can find you later.”

Lifting her fingers to his mouth, Klaus brushed them lightly against his lips. Something hot slithered down her spine, a slow growing awareness that she had been trying to ignore. This vampire could be so dangerous in more ways than she could imagine. “I understand.”

“Do you?” She questioned. She was still young, and the rage and terror of the last few days sat like a knot in her chest that would explode into violence as soon as she changed her skin. It would be another decade before her age gave her the control she needed to keep from such immediate violence with her shift, before she and her beast were in perfect accord.

“Your dragon will have no reason to attack me, Caroline, because I do not need your blood or your scales to become powerful. I already am.” His smile was a brand against her flesh, something hot and near-feral clear on his face. “But I thank you for your concern and will reward it with this: my promise that I will never let you be used in such a way as these witches wish too, as long as I have the power to prevent it.”

“Arrogant,” she whispered as her heart slammed into her throat. “That is not a promise you should make lightly. Magic will hold you to it and neither of us know what the consequences could be.”

“Will it? Good. I think you will find, Caroline, that I can be quite the ally, should you choose to make me one.” He brought her wrist to his mouth before he pressed his cheek against the soft skin there, the scruff of his beard tantalizing as he breathed deeply, as if memorizing the scent of her skin. “But that is something that time will teach you.”

Before she could comment on that, _honestly, the arrogance of men_ , his head turned and the sharpness of his fangs pierced her skin. Her stomach clenched at the bite of pain, the monster in her veins rising up to meet the danger. It was the noise Klaus made, all delight and pleasure low in his throat, her inability to change, that held her in check. He took only a half-dozen mouthfuls, but when he finished, her nails had cut into her palm. Her tongue slid between her teeth as she bit down hard as he ran his tongue over the seeping wound until it closed, and when he opened his eyes a monster watched her.

He was dangerous, this beast, with the slow growing pit and the beginnings of a hunger Caroline could not name behind his gaze. This vampire would swallow the world whole if he could, and _yet_. Nothing about his presence, about his greed and his hunger and the violence she knew he would meet out scared her. If anything, it was a challenge her dragon longed to shove against, to test.

“I will kill the witches upstairs,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “And then I will find you.”

She reclaimed her hand, and wondered what she had left behind. “If you can.”

A laugh, as he rose, and then his fingers curved around the thick iron bars and Klaus bent them open if they were _nothing_. Smile widening, he gave her one more bladed look and disappeared up the winding stairs she had no memory of walking down. Settling back against her corner of the cage, Caroline smoothed her fingers over the deepening bruises that would heal once she had eaten and rested, and for a single moment, she allowed herself to grieve.

When she walked out of this prison, for the first time in her short life, she would do so alone. It was a jagged tear in her chest and one that would take centuries to begin to mend. She would be sure that her grief left a scare just as deep on the hearts of the families who aided this plan. It was never _just_ witches.

But alone was not without potential, and she had promised to keep. A boon. Lifting her head to listen to the screams, Caroline let her dragon rise up from her bone and marrow. It seethed just under her skin, golden and so angry.

When the magic broke, she did not fight the crackling change of her beast as it washed over her, pulling the girl deep inside its rage and pain. She let it swallow her whole, until the only pulse that mattered was the one raging beneath her own skin. And hours later, when she turned back into a girl beneath a sky lit by a full moon, Klaus sat next to her, his eyes luminous in the moonlight as he watched her.

* * *

“ _Bloody_ Petrovas,” Caroline muttered, reaching for the glass of champagne Klaus had poured her earlier as he started his story. This champagne was her favorite, and she wondered how long he had been planning their meeting. It both amused and annoyed her that he had so easily predicted her potential decisions.

Though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, not since he had known of her altercation with the witches. Klaus missed very few details, and it had long since become a personal amusement of hers to surprise him. She could be gracious, she decided. Particularly since the room he had let was lovely, and even better, private, in this city that could hardly be considered extravagant. She had stayed in this very hotel room a time or two herself. She had chosen a different hotel this trip, a habit to mix her preferences built from a lifetime of caution. And while very few monsters in the world dare attack her these days, fewer still would defy Klaus. Together, they made a particularly difficult enemy to win against, and so for tonight she could relax in the company of her oldest friend.

She continued with a scowl. “At least this doppelgänger had the decency to die during the ritual, and not days before.”

That had been _such_ a disappointment and the fallout from it had lasted centuries. She hadn’t been around for Katerina’s escape, she’d been going through her last growth period in the Swiss Alps and needed the space to fly. It had been years after the betrayal that Klaus had told her the story, and even then, his rage had remained palpable. Caroline had always wondered if the supernatural community had known how close it had come to completely disappearing beneath Klaus’ fury.

It remained a personal disappointment that she’d never met Katerina.

“So she did,” Klaus agreed. “Though, somewhat serendipitously, she did not stay dead as it turned out I needed her blood to create my hybrids.”

Caroline gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. “When has a doppelgänger _ever_ stayed dead when they could instead become a nuisance?” This time his laugh was loud in the room, and she huffed, hiding the curl of her smile behind her champagne flute.

“Oh, love, you have no idea.” His smile was wide and for a moment, heartbreaking and something her chest twisted, the old want she tried to ignore. But his smile faded, and something old and dangerous gathered instead. “Thankfully, this one was not turned, and once I removed some of her more annoying vampire protectors, she was more willing to bargain.”

“Bargain? With a _doppelgänger_?” Both of her brows arched high. “After Katerina?”

Klaus lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Not my idea nor my preference after the trouble she caused, but Elijah was insistent. After Katerina’s death in the ritual, he did not wish to see this particular doppelgänger suffer after her miraculous return. I decided to allow it.”

Caroline pinned him with her disbelieving stare. “Did you?”

The curve of his mouth shifted to something bladed. “For now. As long as Elijah collects the blood he promised to me twice a year per our agreement, he may do as he wishes. The doppelgänger’s life is of little consequence to me, only her blood matters.”

“How benevolent of you,” she teased. Kicking off her shoes, she tucked one leg beneath her and smiled brightly. “I know I said it earlier, but congratulations, Klaus. It’s absolutely wonderful that you finally broke your mother’s curse.”

She tipped her glass in his direction, and his gaze held hers and she sipped her favorite champagne and he returned the salute. Something about his expression, the unblinking intensity of his gaze left her skin prickling. Klaus had always given her the truth of his attention. Even in the moments of complete frivolity, her monster’s most exacting standards could not accuse him of ignoring her. Not once. But tonight it felt different, it felt a little like the hint of a gathering storm on the horizon.

“Thank you, Caroline. It is… a relief.”

The words were careful. Slightly guarded, and she nodded. Her dragon was such a part of her that she couldn’t imagine having it locked away for so centuries upon centuries, to having been so close once only to have it snatched away. Katerina was so very fortunate she was already dead.

“Have you changed?” Caroline asked softly and the sudden flood of yellow in his gaze was all the answer she needed. Smile widening with her monster’s happiness, she leaned a little forward and studied his face. “Was it everything you wanted?”

Klaus’ smile was all teeth. “Yes.”

Delighted for him, she made her offer on a rare impulse. It had become easier with him to let herself make quick, careless decisions instead of weighing each word, each choice. She tried not to think of what that meant. “My French chateau has more land than yours. You’re welcome to visit, if you’d like somewhere a bit bigger to run undisturbed.”

His head tipped, eyes warming. Klaus knew how guarded she was with her homes, even with him. Though she was nearly certain he did not understand why. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Welcome.”

His gaze turned teasing. “But I do believe you are mistaken on the matter of how much land I own.”

“Nope,” she chirped, grinning. “I know what you have down to the last square foot of that particular estate. I can make you a list of your things, if you’d like.”

His eyes narrowed, something like intrigue flickering across his face. “Can you?”

“If you didn’t want me to be nosey, you shouldn’t have decided to be my neighbor,” she shrugged, unbothered at being caught out. “Then you had the _audacity_ to do all those renovations and not show them to me. And what on earth possessed you to pick those chairs in the foyer? Do you not believe in comfort _and_ style? If I’d wanted to sit on something on like that, I could have visited a torture chamber and taken a nap. It would have been more comfortable.”

A rough noise of amusement. “I’m sure they aren’t quite that bad.”

“You’d be wrong.”

Klaus ignored her prodding. “I don’t remember receiving an invitation to your home, either, love.”

She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and shrugged. “And when how would I have invited you, Klaus, should I have wanted to? You haven’t returned to Europe for a number of years, and while your human caretakers are darling, I wouldn’t wish for such a thing to go through a third party. Modern technology is far superior, of course, but you never struck me as the type to enjoy texting. You _do_ have a cell phone, do you not? And I swear, if you are using a _flip phone_ , I will never let you live it down.”

A slashing look at her teasing, his exasperation clear. “We are nearly the same age. Human fashion is one thing, human technology another. Why would I have not embraced it?”

Caroline pursed her lips to hide her laughter. “Why not? _You_ are dead, I am not. Adapting is so much more difficult when you are stuck as a relic of the past, don’t you think?”

She had to bite down hard on her lip to hide her smile when he rolled his eyes. “Hardly, but even if I was as determined to remain in the past as Elijah, there are a great number of exceptions I would make for you.”

“Are you sure? I like the way the world has gone, fashion and all. Emojis. Memes. Just what ringtone would I give you, I wonder. I’m not sure my collection of Britney sound bites would do you justice. Maybe the Darth Vader theme song?” Her eyes danced. “ _Barracuda_?”

“ _Caroline_.”

She finally laughed at his exasperation. “Alright, but just so we are clear, I really do have more land than you. Particularly since I’ve been… let’s call it _acquiring_ , recently. And while I do find your home to be lovely, awful furniture choices aside, I might have a suggestion or two on how to improve your wards. Seriously, Klaus. What kind of witches do you employ?”

“I’m certain you do,” he replied, tone droll. “Lists of suggestions. Would it bother you, if we were to become more… neighborly?”

She blinked and straightened from her slightly slouched pose. “Can you stay in one place now?”

“I can.”

“You killed Mikael.”

“And Esther,” he agreed with vicious satisfaction. “They are both gone.”

“Why didn’t you _lead_ with that?” Caroline demanded. “We could have picked up a cake. I would have taken _you_ to dinner.”

His dimples carved into his cheeks, and he shook his head. “This is more than enough.”

She eyed him in disbelief, mentally plotting a _much_ more satisfactory celebration. A thousand years, and he had finally broken his curse. Just champagne between the two of them _would not do_. This would require some thought, and an entirely different location. Rome, maybe. He’d always enjoyed the art and museums there and she had half a dozen favors she could call in. Huffing, she narrowed her eyes at him, silently letting him know she was going to bring it up again. The faint curl of his lips said it bothered him not at all.

“Well then,” Caroline muttered, annoyance still clear in her voice. “Your curse broken, your unfortunate relations dead. I do believe those are your most pressing goals achieved. Whatever are you going to do with yourself now? You are _free_.”

Something hot flickered behind his eyes, a look that left her lungs feeling tight. “I have an idea or two.”

Curiosity burned through her and they stared at each other. There was a hint of challenge behind his eyes, a slow growing dare, and her dragon wanted to reach out with teeth and claw and pry his secrets loose. She finished her glass of champagne instead, hoping that the cold would soothe something of her beast. “I’m glad.”

“And you, love? Have I satisfied your curiosity?” He gestured between them, eyes suddenly amused. “At least for this topic.”

Her teeth scraped along her lower lip and she shook her head. “I have one more question.”

“How surprising.”

Caroline ignored the amusement he made no attempt to hide “Since you managed to break your curse, that means you found the moonstone. I _assume_ you were smart enough to have brought a picture?”

Klaus’ sudden laugh was low and full-throated. “I had wondered how long it would take you to ask.”

She made a face at him and held out her hand, gesturing impatiently as he pulled out his phone. “Please. You asked me to find it for you and I could not, for five centuries, and that should have been impossible, witches or no witches. The very least you can do is show me a picture of it.”

That failure had gouged at her, a broken promise when she _had_ wished to help him. By then they had been something like friends for five centuries, and the loss of the moonstone had enraged him as much as Katerina’s escape. Caroline had bent considerable resources into locating the missing stone, but she had not gathered so much as a hint of its existence. That it had made its way back to Mystic Falls, that Klaus had found it in the keeping of a family of werewolves was serendipitous if frustrating. She wondered if any of them still lived. She would very much like to spend some time studying them, to see what kind of magic lived beneath their skin that they were able to hide something from the unbending will of a dragon.

“I didn’t realize that being unable to find it bothered you quite so much,” Klaus murmured as he obligingly handed her his phone, gaze flickering over her face, lingering on the set of her mouth.

“How could it not?” She muttered, knowing that she sounded sulky and not caring as she studied the rock in the picture. “I promised, did I not?”

“So you did.”

She glanced up with a frown at his tone, but did not let it distract her long. The moonstone looked to be roughly the size of a hockey puck, the translucent rock a strange, milky color. Scowling, she glared down at it. _This_ is what had escaped her for centuries?

“It’s not even _pretty_ ,” she growled, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“I am not sure Esther cared for aesthetics quite the way you do, love.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “How unfortunate for her. Would you like me to destroy it for you? Magical properties or not, rarely does anything survive dragon fire for long.”

“I’d rather you hoard it.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

His gaze was strangely serious. “I would like you to add it to your hoard, Caroline.”

She pursed her lips. “But it's ugly.”

Klaus’ expression turned indulgent, but there was a thread of determination in his voice she recognized. “It anchored my mother’s curse for a thousand years. And while I do not doubt your ability to destroy it utterly, it might also be useful one day. But it could also be used against me. I can think of nowhere more safe for it to remain than tucked away in your collection.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You are usually not so practical when it comes to the ingredients of your curse. Are you sure that is what you want?”

“Yes.”

“And is this why you have sought me out? The boon you wish to ask for?” her head tipped as she met his stare with her own as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Wait, did you bring the moonstone with you and then offered me only _pictures_? Because that would be super rude and I would not find it amusing in the least.”

“No,” he said finally, carefully, the line of his shoulders going tense. “I did not bring it, as I was not certain how long it would take me to locate you or if you would agree to keep it. It is hidden, and while the current arrangement is not ideal, it will keep for now. I had hoped… this is not the request I have come to ask of you. Not the only one, at least.”

Caroline studied his expression carefully. The tenseness to his jaw. “But it's important to you.”

His gaze returned to hers, and she found the wolf watching her. It fit him, she decided. This new facet that could devour the world as easily, as greedily, as the rest of him. She was glad. Sometimes bones didn’t slot back as they should and a thousand years was a long time to go without a part of yourself.

“Yes,” Klaus said finally, something dark threading through his voice. “It is important to me.”

A tiny, please smile curved the edge of her lips. She had grown to believe that Klaus would not betray her, and had allowed him to become important to her and that was no small thing for a dragon. But a tiny, insecure part of her had always wondered if perhaps Klaus was only fascinated _by_ the dragon, and not the women. That she was just another part of the web he grew so carefully each year, silken traps that lured his enemies to their deaths. But that tiny, bitten off yes, the way his wolf gleamed from behind gaze told her that wasn’t the case.

Klaus did not easily admit to anything. And this was important. This required _trust_.

Pleased, she swiped out of the photos on his phone and pulled up his contacts. Plugging in her most current contact info, she hummed to herself for a moment, deciding. Caroline wondered if he would understand the importance of that agreement, and decided she wouldn’t tell him. Some things a dragon liked to keep to herself. “I will hide your moonstone. But you will owe me.”

The wolf did not fade from his eyes. “Will I?”

“Yes,” she said firmly offering him his phone back. “Klaus, it is _ugly_. I am going to have to find somewhere that I can keep an eye on it and yet, not actually _have_ to look at it every time I visit, and that will be no simple task.”

Something flickered through his eyes, a hint of that intensity from earlier as he looked back up from where she had added herself to his phone. “That is it?”

“Should I make you beg, Klaus Mikaelson?” She arched both brows, studying this face and trying not to let the idea of it heat her blood. Her dragon found him fascinating, this new magic that clung to him more so, and she wondered what he could do. How far she could push. “While that could be fun I suppose, we haven’t even circled to your true request. But I warn you, it will likely not be a small favor. Ugly is no minor detail for a dragon.”

“There is nothing that you can ask of me, that I would not give,” Klaus murmured. Her breath caught. Soft his words might have been, but they had been hard as steel, the look behind his eyes resolute. “Though I may have an idea or two on what might sweeten your temper.”

Refusing to think about the sudden pounding of her heartbeat at the slight roughness of his voice, the way she was certain he could hear it, Caroline pursed her lips. “I am not adverse to bribes. Though they will not save you from my wrath should you ask me of such a thing again. _Two_ unnecessarily hideous things in my collection is far more than I am willing to deal with, even for you. You would be wise to avoid such a thing in the future. And do _not_ only call me when you need something or I will make you regret it. And any calls before noon had better be an emergency, and I have a very narrow list of what constitutes an emergency. I will text it to you.”

A hint of a smile touched the hard edges of his mouth. “I will keep that in mind.”

“You’d better. Now, you might as well tell me the rest of it. Why did you come looking for me, Klaus? And what puts such a look behind your eyes when you think of it?” And what did it mean, that he hesitated?

His gaze flattened and he exhaled sharply, walking towards the large windows, hands shoved into his pockets. He was silent for several moments, and his voice was rough when he finally spoke. “Kol is dead.”

Caroline sat her empty champagne glass down with a soft click, surprise clear in her voice. “What happened?”

“Silas.”

Her pulse kicked at that word and she pushed carefully to her feet. “Silas.”

“You know of him, then.” She watched his muscles shift, the clench of fists she could not see. “I had wondered.”

“I know of him,” she agreed, swallowing around a throat gone dry. Silas was a horror she had hoped to never confront. “Is he free?”

“He is dead.”

“Dead?” Caroline repeated, surprise clear in her voice. “How?”

Klaus turned to face her, and his eyes were yellow, the dark veins beneath his eyes prominent. There was rage there, but also a broken sort of grief. For one thousand years, Caroline had watched him love and hate his siblings, cart them about in coffins and force them to his will. She had seen the way he kept them several steps ahead of Mikael with his wits and his schemes, and not _once_ had he lost them. And now she was seeing the consequences of the death of something he loved behind his eyes, no matter the shape that love had taken, and it should have terrified her.

Instead, her monster approved.

She knew the loss of a loved one intimately. Knew the desire to hold that love close, even under the danger of it crushing. She too, kept pretty cages.

“I killed him.”

There was so much _more_ , but now was not the time. “Good,” she said coolly. “Amara?”

“Gone.”

The sudden understanding of what he had come to ask of her, what he needed, flashed through her. Staring at him, she rolled her shoulders, and tried to ease the sudden tightening of her muscles. Amara was gone. Such a simple thing, but it came with so many consequences. “You need my blood.”

His jaw clenched, the sudden red and white striations of his sign of his temper. “Yes.”

Caroline looked away from him, and studied the painting on the wall. For one thousand years, she had done everything in her power to keep her existence quiet. For a young dragon, witches were not the only threat. Not since she had let Klaus drink from her wrist had she willingly allowed another so much as a drop of her blood. Finally, she glanced back at him and spoke very carefully. “That is not a small ask.”

“No, it is not.”

“There is no other way to fetch your brother?”

His voice was measured, words as carefully precise as her own. “All the witches I have spoken to have said what I want should be impossible. Even with the Bennett witch taking on the mantle of anchor, the other side is… unstable.”

Her lips pressed briefly together. It would be. The Bennett line was not meant to hold the other side together, their magic was too closely tied to its foundations. She wondered if they understood that, and amusement curled her lips. It was unlikely. So many witches thought their ancestors to be an endless source of knowledge, but their understanding of the world was so narrow. Her mother or one of her few remaining contemporaries would have known. And if this Bennett witch was living and not trapped, it would change things. “But?”

“It is thought dragon's blood could stabilize the bridge-way between worlds long enough to collect Kol and bring him back.”

It was a struggle to keep from flinching at his words. “And how did they propose finding such a thing?”

How did they want him to hunt her?

“I did not ask,” Klaus said, something dark creeping into his voice. “And I am afraid they are no longer able to answer such questions.”

Caroline blinked, trying to process what he was telling her. “You killed them?”

He nodded. “I killed them down the last drop of their bloodline. They had a number of grimoires that Elijah and Rebekah are searching for additional information, but that may take some time. My siblings are not yet aware of your existence.”

“You killed them,” she repeated slowly even as she absorbed that he had kept his promise and not told even his siblings of her life. A thousand years of this, and he’d hoarded her into those rare, quiet corners of his life. Such a gamble, he’d taken, destroying the witches who might have helped him save his youngest living brother. “Even though they could have helped you fetch your brother.”

“You are not the only one who has promises to keep, Caroline.” Klaus took a careful step in her direction, and then another when she did not move. “Kol… make no mistake, love. I want my brother back, and I will do many terrible things to accomplish my task. But your safety is not an acceptable trade for his return.”

He was close enough that she could touch him if she wished too. Her dragon churned beneath her skin, and she knew he could sense it but he did not flinch from her magic, he never had. Taking a deep breath of the newness of his scent, she met his gaze with hers. “Why not just make this your favor? It fits the parameters.”

Klaus shook his head. “I have already asked for my boon.”

“Which I failed to deliver,” Caroline pointed out. “The scales are not even between us.”

A slashing look. “I believe they are.”

“Klaus…”

Carefully, eyes intent as he reached for a single curl draped over her shoulder, he studied the pale gold of her hair as he twined it around his finger. She should have pushed his hand away, but she didn’t want to. She had always allowed him more liberties than she should have and tonight seemed to be no different. Caroline found she wished that he’d reach for more, ask for more from her than what her magic could grant, and the truth of it unfolding in her chest was not a new want. Such a dangerous thing, when her beast clung with teeth and claw to what it claimed, when it could so easily turn to obsession. She had never allowed herself so much as a small taste of him, because Klaus was not a man who could be hoarded.

“You never stopped looking, did you? In nearly five hundred years, you never stopped hunting the moonstone.” His gaze returned to hers, the yellow calmed slightly by blue, but no less dangerous. There was a hunting edge to him now, as if searching for something from her. “Even when it cost you, personally.”

Her stomach tightened at the knowing tone of his voice and her gaze narrowed. The rumble of her beast roughened her voice when she spoke, her affront clear. “Did you imagine I would be so fickle that I would stop at the first failure?” That she would not turn the world inside out to find the one thing he had ever truly asked her to find?

Klaus smiled at her, a slow, wicked thing that sent her stomach into a free fall. There was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice she did not understand. “No.”

“Then why bring it up?” She demanded, not yet mollified.

“I meant no offense,” he soothed, releasing the curl to tuck it carefully behind her ear. “But I also do not want you to believe that I do not understand what such a request has cost you. What is has continued to cost you.”

Caroline shook her head. “I once told you that our bargain would be no easy thing, and that what magic would demand from neither of us could predict.”

His fingertips brushed delicately across the curve of her chin, and she felt the touch down to her toes. “But your hunt was not driven _only_ by the magical oaths between us, was it?”

Her lashes narrowed, and she studied the familiar lines of his face. “Why ask that question now?”

If she surprised him by the bite in her voice he did not show it, if anything he looked pleased. His fingertips skimmed lightly along her jaw. “Why not?”

Caroline caught his hand with a warning look. This was not a conversation she was prepared to have. It would ask too much from both of them. “My mother was nearly three thousand years old when she died, Klaus.” Underneath her fingers, the muscles of his wrist bunched. Caroline tipped her chin and studied his face, wondering what he saw in hers. “It takes a dragon a very long time to decide to have a child, and even longer to recover. One thousand years before her death, my mother helped a witch who asked for it, and later, when my mother was at her weakest, that witch's descendants slaughtered her like a prized bull.”

Even now, it hurt to speak of it, her rage a hard knot in her chest. Klaus’ jaw was a hard line, the fullness of his mouth compressed. “I did not realize your mother had lived that quite long, love.”

“Dragons are not a short-lived race. Where do you think Qetsiyah gleamed the first inkling of an idea for immortality? Most of us are, however, are killed long before we reach maturity, and those deaths are always due to betrayal.”

“You cannot possibly look for such a thing from me?”

The bite in his voice almost let her smile, those flecks of wolf rage behind his eyes. “No, I do not. Not anymore, at least. But it does not mean I have not seen it, that I did not watch them divide my mother’s blood, her scales, and her teeth by weight and value, discarding what they didn’t want with the carelessness of those given too great of an abundance too quickly. Then, greedier still, they bargained with your mother to lock you away with the power born of her death. They did not care about her life, of her child, only of the power and wealth that would be theirs for such a short time.”

The wolf was back in his eyes and it burned hot. “I remember.”

Caroline nodded. She knew he did. She also knew the blood-price he had taken from that witch line as part of their bargain. She had watched each kill, weighed each death against her mother’s life and in the end, with the line destroyed down the last drop of blood, had found them wanting. How did you replace three thousand years of experience, of life? No death could.

But it helped. Oh, how it helped.

“Giving you my blood, using it as the anchor that summons your brother’s spirit from the ruins of the afterlife that Qetsiyah created? It is no simple matter,” she repeated. “Such events, they echo through time. Even the smallest of ripples can lead to knowledge of my existence, and it is not only witches who covet my power, Klaus.”

It was the first time she had admitted to him the existence of other monsters in the shadow, something she’d never have dared before tonight and his show of trust, though she was certain he’d guessed. Her life was no small thing.

“Yes,” he said finally, face inscrutable as his chin dipped, acknowledging her words. “They do.”

“Then why ask me?” She asked softly, wanting to understand. ‘ _But your safety is not an acceptable trade for his return._ ’ Those words echoed in her mind, and even now, when he asked her this favor, she did not doubt them. Klaus did not say things he did not mean, not to her.

His eyes closed. “When we first met, you and I were so young.”

“Yes,” she agreed. She hadn’t known it then, but Klaus was only a few decades older than her, and his vampirism had sat young on him yet. Thirty years to a dragon was such a small time to be alive, and to a vampire, the very beginning of a start of a new life. When his eyes opened they were blue.

“We have known each other for nearly a millennia now.”

“So we have,” she murmured, nose wrinkling at a batch of memories. “Though some years were certainly longer than others.”

A brief flash of amusement. “And in all that time, in all those years, never once have you betrayed me.”

Caroline pursed her lips at him, letting a hint of the possessiveness that lived beneath her skin color her voice. “We _are_ friends, though I suppose those are in short supply for you with your tendency to murder first and ask questions later.”

The corners of his unfairly pretty mouth tilted, and something achingly familiar and a touch feral filled his gaze. “That is not all we are.”

It was her turn to still, teeth sinking briefly into her lip as her dragon stirred at the carefully avoided conversation, interest and desire raking claws deep. Acknowledging what was between them had always been easy, there had been no way to deny it this pull, but to admit it? “You should not say things like this, Klaus.”

“I have never told you a falsehood.” He replied, brow arching with a familiar arrogance. “I would not start now.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “You do not know what you are tempting. Saying such things are not _wise_ when dealing with a dragon.”

Between one blink and the next, his body shifted closer to hers, fingers tangling behind her ear into the fall of her hair. His head lowered, breath warm on her lips and he shook his head. “I know exactly what I am tempting Caroline. I have seen the strength of you since you watched me from behind iron bars with your mother’s death a terrible note between us. I have watched you grow, admired and coveted the way you hoarded bits and pieces of the world around you, and watched me with _such_ eyes. I know you, but there is much I would still learn. If you’d let me.”

It was a strain, to keep from lunging for those lips and to taste that gilded tongue. Part of her couldn’t believe she hadn’t. Taking a careful breath, and her inhale hitched at the first hint of his arousal. “Klaus…”

His thumb smoothed across her cheekbone, gaze intent. “This is a conversation we will have, love. But I will not for an instant allow you to believe that my determination to have you in any way is a reflection of my request to retrieve my brother.”

Her mouth ran dry at the intent in his voice, the glittering want he made no move to hide. Klaus, with his schemes and his dimples had always been difficult to release, but this? Want a wild, feral thing between them, with _intent_ behind it? Chin lifting, she gave him a cool glance. “Do you think my affection, that _I_ am so easy to collect?”

His smile was wickedly familiar, dimples an enticement. “Ah, Caroline. As delightful as that would be, you have it wrong.”

“ _Do_ I?”

He looked unperturbed by her cutting words. Instead, the slow drag of his thumb down the curve of her cheek to skim the softness of her mouth conveyed a type of want that left her knees shaky, before he took a careful, deliberate step away from her. “I don’t wish to collect you, though I am sure you have had the occasional lover foolish enough to try. No, love. I want _you_ to claim _me_. I want you to _hoard_ me, to sink that delightful possessiveness of yours into the marrow of my bones and never be satisfied that you have enough. I want your scent on my skin, your blood on my tongue, and everything I am bound up so tightly with yours that even that meticulous mind of yours forgets to differentiate between our things. I want you, Caroline. And I am prepared to be very, very convincing that you should take what you want from me.”

It sounded so very much like a promise. Running her tongue along her teeth, she considered those words, the look behind his eyes. The way he was offering her what she so very much wanted to take, this monster who had walked with her for so many years. “What you want is no easy thing to give.”

Her soft words came out as more of a challenge and a warning than she intended, but if anything, that delighted him. “Good,” he replied. “I have no use for such a thing to be easy, when claws and blood bind far more tightly. I intended for us to echo for a very long time, Caroline.”

Something loosened her chest, some unnameable emotion setting butterflies free in her stomach. Still. He was right. Now was not the time. Though, for the first in centuries, she thought they might have it in the very near future. His parents were gone, and the world was shifting. Head tipping in acknowledgement of his words, if not _agreement_ no matter how badly she wished to carve the lines of her possession on to his skin, she took a breath.

“How did your brother die?”

If her sudden change in topic bothered him, he did not show it. “An agent of Silas convinced the doppelgänger’s friends that the cure would kill me.”

Disbelief had her blinking for a moment before her eyes rolled. “Please tell me you are joking.”

“I am afraid I cannot.”

Spinning on her heel, she headed to the minibar. Yanking open the small door, she studied the small bottles before reaching for her choice and grabbing one for Klaus. Tossing the tiny bourbon at him, she sighed. “This will just have to do instead of shots since I am out of champagne.”

“Will it?”

She gave him a cutting look. “That such stupidity still exists in the world is always a reason to drink. You said that her protectors were vampires? And they _still_ fell for that line?”

He studied her from thoughtful eyes, rolling the bourbon from hand to hand as she unscrewed the top of the vodka she’d grabbed. “I’m afraid that I do not understand what has caused your ire, love.”

“You don’t…” Caroline stared at him and groaned before tipping the alcohol back and letting it burn. Wishing she had a much, much large bottle to blunt the headache this conversation was going to cause she tossed up her free hand. “Seriously? Silas’ cure was not intended for you.”

“Since he was cursed some two thousand years ago, that is true.”

Tempted to roll her eyes again, she huffed. “No. You have always been careful to keep the particulars of your mother’s spell to yourself, but spells like yours, spells that break the foundations of magic? They always have a price.”

His face smoothed into inscrutable lines and there was a long pause, before he finally nodded, voice careful. “Yes. I did not realize you spent so much time looking into the particulars of my making.”

She decided to ignore his comment. She was too vexed with him to explain it and right then he didn’t deserve it. “Whatever death Ester chose to kill you with, and it is clear she gave her spell something or Mikael would not have hunted you as he did, it would _not_ kill Silas. And that works vice versa. The cure? It was for Silas and Amara only. Perhaps it would break the magic in a younger vampire, it was a bit of powerful spell work, but you or your siblings? Impossible.” She tossed the glass into the bin, and placed a hand on her hip, wrinkling her nose. “ _Honestly_ , Klaus. You grew up in a family of witches. How do you not know this?”

A hint of something like self-depreciation flickered through his gaze, there and gone again before she could really be sure she’d seen it. “You’d be surprised at the secrets my mother kept.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” she muttered. Taking a calming breath, she debated more vodka. “What I do not understand is why that would lead to your brother’s death?”

“Kol has long hunted the cults of Silas.”

“I thought he was the foolish brother? I may have to rethink that stance.”

Klaus’ mouth twisted. “Kol is many things. Foolish? Quite. But he likes to dabble with witches, and they have long whispered about the dangers Silas brought. I… I did not always believe the stories, but he did. The Bennett line, in particular, has done what it could to correct what their ancestor created in Silas.”

“The Brotherhood of Five,” Caroline said softly. “I know of them.”

A tip of his chin, something old and remembered darkening his gaze. “Then you know they were tasked with killing Silas. It seemed that the key to creating the map to his location was to kill vampires.”

“Witches have such a lack of imagination,” she muttered. “To hunt one immortal with the creations of another? Most likely, they needed the magic Ester’s spell left in vampire blood to boost whatever the Bennett witch did all those years ago.”

Klaus ran his fingers through his hair in a quick, agitated motion. “We are tied to our sire lines, in ways many do not understand. Kol’s death caused the death of every vampire in his line. My brother was… not particular about who he changed, and they were prolific. The map was finished, and events proceeded from there.”

There were a million details missing and a thousand she didn’t need. The most important of them jabbed her in the ribs, and she felt the hunting stillness of her dragon sink into her bones as the truth of what she had missed in her surprise earlier dawned on her. “Someone knows how to kill you.”

Hard, yellow eyes. “Not anymore.”

Her fingers flexed. Nothing remained secret forever. “With the otherside so chaotic, is it possible that others learned that particular weakness as well?”

Dragons did not easily traverse what Qetsiyah had wrought and she had never tried it, but for him, she might. Though she was certain she could never tell him of the attempt. She had no use for the argument she knew such a feat would cause.

“As always, I appreciate your concern,” Klaus said, pleasure warm in his voice. “Welcome it, even, but in this, you have no need to worry. My mother has been dealt with in such a way that she will no longer be a concern, and my father lacks the ability to communicate to anyone on this side of the plane. I told you once that I would not so much let them hear a whisper of your existence, and I have no intention of breaking that promise.”

“And how exactly do you place on keeping that promise, should I do as you ask?”

“It's quite simple. Once Kol is freed, I will destroy the remains of Qetsiyah’s legacy until not even a shard of the otherside exists to house either of my parent’s souls.” A terrifyingly simple statement with _so many_ implications. “The current anchor is already vulnerable, and the otherside has long been a thorn in my side I wish to be rid of.”

Lips curving in vindictive agreement, Caroline considered that. He was not trying to hide that there were many reasons that the otherside needed to be destroyed to protect himself and his family, and she supposed this could just another one of his schemes to gain her trust, but as she had told him earlier, she had long since stopped watching for that kind of betrayal from him.

“The witches will not be happy.”

“Perhaps, but they do so love their little speeches about balance.” He lifted a shoulder. “I am just returning the world to its original state.”

And in doing so, would free many creatures from the bonds that Qetsiyah had leashed the world with. It was something she would need to give some thought to and just what it would mean for her own magic. What living in a world with witches who no longer had such a stranglehold on the power Qetsiyah had wrenched from the world would be like.

The question was would she help him do it?

And if she did, what she wanted from him. Bringing a nail to her mouth, she briefly chewed on it as she considered all the ramifications of disrupting the careful boundaries they had set so many years ago. What would it mean if she obliterated them. Smiling, she met his eyes.

“I want to meet your family.”

Klaus’ hand jerked a little as he reached over to set the bourbon he had not opened down, fingers flexing around the glass. “I beg your pardon?”

Caroline didn’t bother to hide her amusement at his reaction. “Your family. Elijah and Rebekah are your two remaining siblings, with Kol dead.” Her brows wrinkled. “Though I am almost certain you mentioned another brother.”

There was a pause, something old in his eyes. “Finn.”

It didn’t sound quite right, but she let it go. For now. “Elijah, Rebekah and Finn, then. I want to meet them.”

“Finn is dead.” Klaus shrugged. “And I can’t say I’m sorry for it. As for the others… our relationship is currently strained. They were not particularly grateful to be released from their coffins. Are you certain?”

Did she wish to mingle herself in his family affairs when she had never before asked to? When she had instead let him keep her secret from everyone and everything? All the questions he did not quite ask.

“Yes. I am certain. Your family… they are important to you. And attempting to use me against you would not be wise.”

“No,” he agreed. “It would not.”

She gave him an exasperated look at the hint of threat in his voice. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

Muttering a few choice words at his placating tone, Caroline glared. “I want to see the grimoires that the witches had collected. While I don’t doubt your siblings ability to read, I want to confirm their assumptions on my magic are correct before I make my decision.”

Klaus went still. “Do you?”

“This is _not_ a yes, Klaus.” She warned him. “It is a ‘I want to look over every inch of your plan and decide if it is stupid.’ It is likely there are a number of possibilities that have been ignored for the easy, brute force approach. Giving you my blood for spell work will be a last choice measure, if it is needed at all. _If_ I agree.”

He nodded slowly. “The timeline is flexible, though there is some urgency to it. The Bennett witch may not last a full decade as the Anchor.”

“So she _is_ living.”

Klaus arched a brow. “Yes.”

Caroline tipped her head but did not elaborate. “There is much that can be done in a decade, Klaus. Though if it is going to take that long, I refuse to spend the entirety of it in New Orleans. The politics there are so irritating, and I despise the witches.”

“You know I am in New Orleans,” he said slowly.

“I did visit you several times during that stretch of time when you were pretending to be King of the City or whatever nonsense idea you had,” she pointed out flippantly. “I do keep track of things, you know.”

“So you do,” he replied, delight suffusing his words. Dimples creasing in his cheeks, he studied her for a long moment. “Do you need to stay in the city much longer? I flew private, would be willing to make any number of stops necessary if you would like to travel with me.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “No, I have no reason to stay in the city. What I came for is not here. I will need to make a list of things that I need for your hunt, and a stop or two may be necessary.”

“Anywhere you need.”

Delighted, she lifted a finger. “We will _not_ be stopping by my French Chateau. If you want to see it, you will have to visit me when we are not neck deep in a family crisis.”

His eyes warmed at her use of _we_ , and his smile grew mysterious. “Of course. I have an errand or two that I must finish before leaving, and there is that matter of the witches who attacked you. But first would you like to see what I brought you?”

She arched both brows as the mischief in his face. “You were serious about the bribes.”

“Always.”

For a moment, she considered hiding her pleasure but then decided there was no point. Klaus knew exactly what he was doing, what he had always done when he saw her. And if he was serious in the pursuit he had mentioned wanting, then hiding the last of her truths was of no use. Smiling brightly, the dragon rising to peer at him from behind her eyes, she showed him teeth. “I take presents very seriously.”

A laugh, warm and delighted. “As do I.”

Nearly bouncing on bare toes, she followed him as he led her into one of the rooms. Stepping to the side with another laughing smile at her clear impatience, Caroline moved forward and abruptly came to a stop, breath catching in her chest. Carefully displayed, it was her painting. Her dragon a riot of emotions in her chest, she paced forward slowly, and just as carefully brushed her fingers down the lines of paint and canvas that had nudged and nudged and _nudged_ at her until finding it had become a thorn beneath her skin.

“I’d heard the faintest of rumors that an alias you had once used was looking for it,” Klaus murmured from where he had come to stand behind her. “Not from witches, but from a few of my more… careful art contacts. I hope they were right.”

Delight bubbled in her veins like champagne. “They were.”

His breath rasped against her ear, and she could almost feel the stretch of his smile. “Good.”

And just like that, she knew she was going to keep him. Oh, she’d known she wanted him and the dragon wanted to tuck him away in a chamber of silk and sex deep in her most coveted of hoards, to have him all to herself and all her many indulgences, but this understanding of her nature from him, of what she wanted and why?

It was a gift.

And, she decided, she would give him on one in return. Just a small one, until this business of Kol could be decided. Then they would take a deeper, harder look at how to make him hers, so that she had to share him as little as possible. Spinning on her heel so that she remained pressed close, she brought up both hands to cup his face.

His eyes edged with gold.

“When your brother is as alive, well, not as _dead_ I suppose, then you and I will have that talk.”

His lashes lowered, gaze heating as he traced the shape of her mouth. “Yes.”

“Good,” she rasped. Rising up on her toes, she pressed her mouth against the plush fit of his. She had decided on a taste, and she was going to take it. Klaus seemed to have no argument, lips parting against hers. His hand slid into her hair, fingers tightening on the loose curls, and Caroline explored the taste and feel of him with the hunger she had ignored for a dozen lifetimes.

A hunger that Klaus met and matched, pulling her flush against him as she sank into the heat that was a vibrant cord between them. Pulling back only when she needed air, she watched him from beneath her lashes as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, delighting in the flush along his cheekbones, the rough rasp of his breath in his throat. The way she could feel _just_ what kind of interesting effects a single kiss had on him.

The way her body had heated and burned for more. Shifting her hold to smooth her thumb across his kiss wet lips, she smiled. “We have _much_ to speak about.”

His gaze lowered, and when it lifted, it was the monster that watched her. Whose hunger was on full, breathtaking display. “Oh love, you have no idea.”

But she rather thought she did.

And she couldn’t wait.


End file.
